“You know… Broadway shows and stuff,” Kimmie answers, and I let out a small laugh, realizing it was a stupid question. Of course I know what she’s here to talk about.

“Okay,” I say. “I was gonna take a fifteen-minute break soon anyway.”

We head toward the front of the store, and I let Erika know that I’m gonna go on my break.

“So,” I say as we walk out the door.

“So?”

“How’s Darryl?”

Kimmie smiles as we start making our way up Avenue A toward Fourteenth Street. “He’s good.”

“Still hanging out?”

“Every single day.”

“And the band?”

Kimmie presses her lips together. “I’m no longer in it.”

“What? Why?”

“Boys are so difficult.” She throws a sideways glance at me, rolling her eyes. “So I decided to leave and start my own band. I already have two people.”

“Who?”

“Vicky and Shareen from school. We played for the first time at a party last weekend. I, uh… I asked if you wanted to come, but you didn’t reply to my text.”

“Oh.” I can’t even remember the last time I checked the string of unread texts from Kimmie. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t a big deal or anything, but it was fun to be on a stage.”

“What did Darryl say? About you leaving his band and all?”

“He didn’t mind. If anything, things have been better since I started doing my own thing. I even met his parents.”

“You did?” I say, raising my eyebrows. “How was that?”

She purses her lips for a second. “Just as awkward as I thought it would be.”

“Has he met your parents yet?”

“Oh, no,” Kimmie says. “I have no idea what they’re gonna say when they find out I have a boyfriend, so I’ve been trying to push that off as much as possible.”

I smile a little to myself. Mr. and Mrs. Reid are the nicest people I know, but with Kimmie being an only child, they’ve always been a little overprotective of her.

“Haven’t they asked where you’ve been all summer?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve just told them I’ve been hanging out with you and Adam, which makes me kinda sad, cause, you know… I barely see either of you anymore.”

We stop at a red light on the corner of Fourteenth and First Avenue. It’s one of those hot, muggy summer days, and my shirt is already starting to feel sticky. Just standing here, I can feel the heat radiating from the pavement, but as soon as the little man turns white, we keep walking.

“Have you talked to Adam at all?”

“A little,” Kimmie says. “He mostly just asks me if I’ve heard from you. He’s worried you’re never gonna talk to him again.”

“And what have you said to him?”